Beg, Borrow or SteeleTranscribed from the Episode Written
by:
Brad Kern

A taxicab pulls up before Laura's loft, and Steele opens the
door of the car and gets out, waiting for Laura as the driver
comes around to the trunk. "Ugh," Laura groans. "Next
time we get invited to a weekend wedding bash in New York, remind
me not to eat everything in sight."

"Certainly took quite a bite out of the Big Apple,"
he agrees tiredly. "Ate everything except the worm, I'd
say." To the driver, he says, "Just the lady's bags,
thank you very much." He takes the bags. "Nothing personal,
Laura, I just don't think I've got the energy to coax you into
a romantic interlude."

They turn and head toward the front doors, him carrying her
cases. "That's alright," she assures him, then adds,
"I don't think I've got the energy to thwart your attempts
anyway." She stops, looks back at him.

Steele grins. "Oh, well, on the other hand, I think I
just got my second wind."

Laura comes down the steps and gives him a kiss. "See
you in the morning," she tells him, taking her cases.

"Exactly," Laura agrees, then goes on up the steps
as Steele turns to the cab, smacking his lips.

***

The elevator opens on the fifth floor of Steele's building,
and he pauses as he starts toward his door, as he sees yellow
tape strung across the doorway, blocking it. The words "POLICE
LINE DO NOT CROSS" are emblazoned on the tape. Steele inspects
the padlock on the door, then hears the telephone start to ring
inside and digs for his pick kit, setting to work.

He opens the door and enters, finding the phone and picking
it up just as whoever it is hangs up. Turning on the light, he
sees the tape outlines of two bodies, bloodstains covering the
carpet where their head would have been. Steele frowns.

***

He goes to the office, and finding the same yellow tape across
the doors there, as well as a padlock on them, he digs out his
pick, but the lock is already open. He pushes on the door, and
finding it open, ducks beneath the tape to go into the dark office.
When he opens his office door, someone leaps on him, and he struggles
with his attacker, forcing the person to the floor.

He draws back a fist, and then freezes as he realizes who's
under him. "Laura?!"

"You?"

"What are you doing here?" he asks. "I thought
you didn't have any energy?"

"I didn't until I was greeted by a police barricade at
my front door," she tells him. "Just like they've got
here!"

"It must be an epidemic. I've got the same decorations
on my door. Come on," he says, rising to his feet and pulling
her with him. "Shh, shh," he warns, hearing someone
whistling in the corridor. "Come in here, quick," he
says, pulling her into the doorway of his office, where they watch
as a security guard notices the open padlock on the door.

"Why are we hiding?" Laura asks. "This is *our*
office, remember?"

The man peers inside. "Uh-huh. It appears two people
were murdered in my living room," Steele informs her, watching
the guard.

"Yes, well, you and I know that. But given the circumstances,
how can we be certain that anybody else does?" He looks
at the doors again. "I'd like to find out who those bodies
are before we compare notes with the police. Come on," he
says again, and this time, Laura goes with him.

They carefully exit the office and take to the streets. "Does
anybody besides me have a set of keys to your place?" Laura
asks as they walk in front of a locked and darkened appliance
store.

"Most of the people I know wouldn't need a set of keys
to my place," Steele reminds her.

"This is hardly the time for jokes."

"Who's joking?" Steele asks. "I don't have
a bloody clue who would have been in my apartment! Our main priority
is to get in touch with Mildred."

"I already tried," Laura tells him. "She's not
home. All I'm saying is that I don't know what we're going to
accomplish out here on the streets. I still think we should call
the po-" she stops in her tracks as the television sets inside
the store, which are still on, reveal a picture of Steele, then
Laura.

Steele, noticing that she's stopped, comes back to see what
she's looking at. A reporter on the news is saying something,
but they can't hear. "Don't just stand there," Laura
orders. "Pick the lock!" She looks around, and then
follows him to the doors. "Hurry up," she says nervously
as he kneels to work the lower latch.

"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying," he tells her.

She keeps an eye out, and the alarm goes off as he opens the
door. They go inside and find a big screen TV where a reporter
is saying, "And in sports, the big story remains that missing
Pick Six ticket, worth over one and a half million dollars."
Steele and Laura strain to hear over the alarm bell. "It's
been three days now, and track officials, not to mention the IRS,
are wondering where that lucky person who picked all six winning
horses is hiding."

Laura frowns, and Steele picks up the remote. "Here you
go," he says, pointing it at the TV and changing the channel.
An old western is playing, and Steele grins. "Oh. I've
seen this one-"

"Give me that!" Laura says, grabbing the remote and
flipping to another channel. Video of Lt. Jarvis leading a distraught
Mildred out of a building is being shown as the reporter's voice
says, "And Police still aren't saying whether they have any
leads in the brutal murders of famed private investigator Remington
Steele and his secretary, Laura Holt, both shot gunned to death
earlier today in Mr. Steele's apartment." Steele grins nervously
at Laura, who's listening closely. The tape ends, and the reporter
continue. "Memorial services are scheduled for Wednesday
at Cowan Mortuary . . . "

"Newsworthy? We've just been declared dead! And one of
us a secretary," she muses, miffed.

"Really, Laura, this is no time to be petty," Steele
says.

"And wrapping up our series on precious gems," the
reporter says, "tonight we look at Royal Lavulite. The newest,
rarest gemstone in the world of fine jewelry." A photo of
the Lavulite is shown. "It's vibrant violet color makes it
totally unique among natural gemstones."

Steele smiles. "How poetic. The story that brought us
together follows the news of our deaths." He turns, hearing
a police siren approaching. The car passes in front of the windows.

"I suggest we conduct our post-mortems elsewhere,"
Laura says.

"Yes," Steele agrees, and follows her toward the
rear of the building.

The clerk runs Steele's card, and it comes up as stolen and
instructs him to call in. He looks at Steele, and then gives
him the receipt and card, watching him carefully the entire time.

Steele tears up the carbon, and takes the key, "Thank
you," he says before leaving with Laura.

The clerk picks up the telephone and dials a number.

***

Steele and Laura enter the tiny room with its worn chair and
peeling wallpaper. "What makes them think *we* were the ones
that were murdered?" Laura wonders. "And who were the
actual victims?" she asks.

Steele peels off his jacket. "Well, if we are dead,"
he tells her, going to the tiny, dirty bathroom and turning on
the light, "this must be hell."

Laura sits on the bed, and then picks up the phone as Steele
turns on the water. He looks at her and turns off the water.
"What are you doing?"

"Calling my sister," she says. Steele grabs the
phone and hangs it up. "What are you doing?"

"Saving our hides, along with your sister's," he
says.

"I just want her to know I'm alive," she tells him,
reaching for the phone again.

He stops her again. "Laura, we can't let anyone know
we're alive until we find out who wanted us dead. Somebody out
there thinks they've murdered us. If they find out they made a
mistake, we're sitting ducks," he tells her as he unfastens
his shirt cuffs.

"So in the meantime, we're supposed to play possum?"
Laura asks. She's alarmed by the sound of a car squealing to a
stop, and lights flashing outside.

Steele looks out of the dirty window. "They couldn't have
followed us here from the TV store, could they?"

"Perhaps they want to find out who's using a dead man's
credit card," Laura clarifies.

He grabs his coat and heads toward the back window. "Let's
not stick around and explain. Come on."

"Where are we gonna go?" Laura asks as he raises
the window and steps back for her to go out first.

"Someplace nice and warm, and cozy," he assures her,
following her out.

***

The next morning, Steele and Laura come out of a movie house.
The marquee reveals that the title of the movie is "Hot Lips
Holly" and that it's rated XXX. Steele stretches, as Laura
frowns. "Nothing quite like a good night's sleep, eh?"

"I can't believe I spent the entire night in a porno movie
house," she frets.

"I don't understand how you could get any sleep with all
that moaning and groaning going on."

"No need to apologize, Laura," he teases. "I
could hardly hear you," he finishes with a grin. Laura gives
him a look. "Hey, besides, where else could you spend the
night on ten dollars, eh?"

"If you'd carry more cash, we wouldn't have had to find
out."

"I never carry cash," Steele reminds her. "Too
bulky."

"Hopefully the police will have lifted the barricade by
now and we can catch up with Mildred at the office and find out
what's going on."

***

They take the stairs to the eleventh floor, and peer out of
the doorway to see Mildred, dressed in black, standing before
a reception area filled with wreaths and flowers. There's a photo
of Laura and Steele on an easel, with a black line of mourning
across it.

Laura nods, and they start out, only to stop and close the
door as a short little man wearing a black armband comes around
the corner and enters the office. "Ex-client?" Steele
wonders, looking down at Laura.

"Not that I remember," Laura confirms, frowning.

The man approaches Mildred, a sad expression on his face.
"You must be in terrible pain," he commiserates.

"They were very special to me," Mildred agrees.

"Yeah. Well, anyway, uh, Steele was supposed to be holding
a package for me. Do you happen to know anything about it?"

"Who are you?" Mildred wants to know.

As Laura and Steele watch from the stairway door, a short man,
dressed in a black suit, black shirt and white tie, flanked by
two men, walk down the corridor, and into the office. "Must
be from your side," Laura decides. Steele looks down at
her with a frown.

The black clad man approaches Mildred, placing a hand to his
chest. "My most heart-felt condolences, Miss Krebs. I'm Phil.
Most know me as Pittsburgh Phil. I was curious as to whether or
not Mr. Steele left me an- envelope or something'?"

The man approaches Mildred with a handkerchief to his eyes.
"Such a sad occasion," he tells her as she eyes him
suspiciously. "By the way, do you know if Mr. Steele was
holding a particular item for me?"

"Talk to the short guy," she tells him bitterly.
The jockeys all turn to look at her.

As yet another mourner enters the corridor, Laura and Steele
draw back into the stairwell. It's Lt. Jimmy Jarvis, and he enters
the office as well. "Detective Jarvis," Laura says.
"Finally a friendly face."

"You mean a familiar face," Steele corrects her.
"If he sees us, we're dead." Laura looks up at him,
and he shrugs. "Well, you know what I mean."

"How are we going to contact Mildred?" Laura wonders.

Steele looks thoughtful.

Jarvis goes over to Mildred, who's holding a glass of wine
at the buffet. "It's an interesting array of people,"
he comments.

"Greedy, too," Mildred tells him quietly. "From
the looks of them, I guess most of them must have known Mr. Steele.
All but the nun, of course."

On the street, Laura lowers the phone. "What did she say?"
Steele wants to know.

"That I'm a sick, perverted pig," she tells him.

Jarvis comes over to Mildred, who's staring at the telephone,
frightened. "Mildred, they're just crank calls," he
assures her. "It happens all the time with celebrities.
That's what brings these people out. Try not to let them get
to you."

The phone rings again, and Jarvis answers. "Detective
Jarvis here."

Steele looks put out, then holds the phone to his chest as
he thinks quickly. Putting the phone back to his ear, he fakes
an Australian accent. "Goodday, yes, hello. Is Miss Krebs
there, please?"

A door opens and Steele and Laura appear. "Long time no
see, Mildred," Steele says, smiling.

"Mildred?" Laura asks.

Mildred stands there, mouth open, and then slides to the floor
in a faint. Laura and Steele rush toward her. "Oh, Mildred,"
Steele mutters. "There you go, girl," he says as he
and Laura lift the unconscious woman to sit between them on a
pew. "Don't take it to heart. There you go. That's it."

"But I saw you both," Mildred insists. "Lying
in the Boss's apartment. Dead!"

"How could you identify those two people as us?"
Laura wonders.

"There wasn't much to identify. Their faces were all but
-gone. He was wearing your monogrammed robe," she tells
Steele. "And she was in a negligee."

"She was in a negligee and you still thought it was Miss
Holt?" Steele questions in surprise.

"Well, it *was* your apartment," Mildred reminds
him.

"The question is," Laura says, "who were they
and what were they doing at his apartment?"

"Yeah," Mildred agrees. "And what do five jockeys,
a guy named Pittsburgh Phil and a nun have to do with it?"

"Alright, I'll bite," Steele tells her warily. "What
do five jockeys, a fella by the name of Pittsburgh Phil, and a
nun have to do with it?"

"No, I'm askin'," Mildred clarifies. "I mean,
them and some other shady characters were all at your wake."

"We saw them," Laura tells Steele.

"They all seemed to think you had something for them.
An envelope, a package. I figured you knew them."

Steele looks thoughtful. "No, no, but perhaps they knew
the victims."

"Who had the envelope or package they all wanted."

"Which everybody now thinks I have because of where the
victims died."

Mildred watches as they bounce ideas off each other. "Which
means that we may not have been the intended targets after all,"
Laura reasons.

"Yes, however, if the murderer thinks we have what he's
after-"

"We've got to find out who the victims are and what everybody
is looking for."

Mildred finally speaks. "Jarvis gave me the personal
effects off your- I mean, the victims' bodies. They're at the
office."

They all get up.

***

At the office, Mildred knocks on the door to the stairway to
signal that the coast is clear, and then motion for Steele and
Laura to follow her. They go into Steele's office, where Laura
and Steele collapse onto the sofa.

"If we don't solve this case soon, I'm going to have to
have these clothes surgically removed," Laura tells them.

"You both are getting a little ripe," Mildred admits,
sitting down as well.

"Speaking of ripe," Steele says, "We could use
a hot meal. How much money you got Mildred?"

"Let's see," she says, opening her purse. "
I've only got three bucks," she says, pulling it out.

"How could you only have three dollars?" Laura asks.

"Tomorrow's payday, remember?"

"What about credit cards?" Steele asks.

"Here, take my bank card," she says, handing it to
him, then grabbing it back. "I'm over my limit on that one.
Here, try this one." She pulls it away as well. "No,
no, that one, too."

Laura and Steele are frustrated. Steele grabs the three dollars.
"Not exactly a bonanza, is it?"

"Give me a couple of hours," Mildred tells them.
"I'll see what I can rustle up."

Mildred nods, standing up. "Oh!" She goes to Steele's
desk. "Here are the belongings." She slides a manila
envelope across to Steele. "I couldn't open them."

Steele pulls out two plastic bags and hands one to Laura.
Laura opens hers and looks inside. "Not much here,"
she declares as Steele takes something out of his bag and inspects
it.

He frowns, looking sad. "Oh, poor Freddy," he sighs.
He looks at Laura and Mildred. "An old friend of mine. I
suspect the girl he was with was his lady friend."

"How in the world could you know all that?" Laura
wants to know.

Steele hands her the ring he is holding. It's got a diamond
filled horseshoe on it. "The word inscribed on the inside?"
Laura turns the ring over to reveal the word. "CANON? It
means master pickpocket," Steele tells her. Mildred's eyes
widen. "That was Freddy," he says, taking the ring
back. "This ring meant a lot to him. I know."

Mildred takes off for the door, meeting Jarvis in the doorway.
"Ah, there you are." Mildred is ready to explain,
but when she turns around, there's no sign of Steele or Laura.
"Ah, listen. I just came to tell you that that lead I was
hoping for- panned out." Mildred listens stiffly.

"Uh huh?" she says, not really listening to him as
she looks around for Steele and Laura.

"It proves that the murderer had to be someone close to
Mr. Steele and Miss Holt. Someone that they would recognize when
they opened the door that- fateful night."

"Oh," Mildred says, moving to the desk. She sees
Steele and Laura there. They motion for her to get rid of Jarvis.
Mildred grabs her purse from the desk. "Ah ha," she
says in a brighter voice.

"It also though, narrows down the motive, which you feel
is- revenge?" he says as she grabs his arm to lead him toward
the reception area. "Yes?" She nods. "But, you
see, all of the criminals that Mr. Steele's put away are still
behind bars, Mildred, so it couldn't be revenge," he says.
She almost pushes him out of Steele's office. "Money had
to be the motive. Then the question became, who would gain the
most financially from their deaths?" he's saying as she closes
the door behind them.

"Uh, huh," Mildred says.

Steele sighs. "Pity. I was curious to hear who he thinks
murdered us." Laura nods in agreement.

"We'll just wait here until Mildred tells us the coast
is clear," she tells him.

In the reception area, Jarvis tells Mildred, "It had to
be someone who was- familiar with their personal affairs,"
he speculates. "Someone who stood to benefit from their corporate
life insurance policies to the tune of one million dollars apiece-."
He pauses, waiting.

"Uh huh," Mildred says, and then stops as what he's
saying finally hits her. "Wait a minute!" she says,
holding out her hand to point at him. "You-"

He clamps a handcuff onto her wrist. "That's right."
He fastens her wrists together. "You are the beneficiary,
Mildred. And- you're under arrest for the murders of Remington
Steele and Laura Holt." He pulls out a notebook.

"I couldn't. I mean, they're not even really-"

He turns her toward the door, reading. "You have the right
to remain silent." Mildred looks toward Steele's office,
wanting to tell him the truth, but afraid to do so. "If you
give up the right to remain silent, anything you say may be used
against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney
present "

***

Steele and Laura get off of a city bus. "I never thought
I'd miss Fred and the limo so much," he tells her.

"What I'd give for a nice, long, hot shower right now,"
Laura frets as the bus pulls away to reveal that they're back
across the street from the movie house again.

"Well, if you had to give more than a dollar, I'm afraid
you'd be out of luck," he tells her, studying the change
in his hand. "Still don't understand where Mildred disappeared
to, but wherever she went, she'd better have cash in hand when
we meet her at her place."

"Tell me a little bit more about this friend of yours
we're meeting," Laura says. "What's her connection to
Freddy?"

Steele grins and crooks his finger at someone else down the
sidewalk. As they watch, a thin blonde passes a man, bumping
him. "Hey! Watch where you're goin', will ya?" she says.
The man glares and continues on his way. The woman pulls a wallet
from her jacket and frowns as she joins Steele and Laura. "Oh,
damn. Doesn't anybody carry cash anymore?"

Laura is frowning. "Freddy and Candy are both pickpockets,"
Steele tells her. "That's the connection. Meet my partner
in reincarnation, Laura Holt," he says to Candy.

Laura shakes Candy's hand. "Nice to meet you. I think."

"So, Harry," Candy begins, "What's going on?
Is this another one of your scams or did some poor sap take your
bullet by accident?"

Steele sighs and hands her the ring.

She looks at it. "Freddy. Oh, God, Jennifer too."

"Do you have any idea what they were doing at Mr. St-
At Harry's apartment in the first place?" Laura asks as Steele
retrieves the ring from Candy.

"Freddy and I were both workin' the track last week, and
I don't know what got into his head, but he saw the local loan
shark headin' toward the betting window and picked his pocket.
I mean, he just walked up to him and picked him clean. I couldn't
believe he even tried it."

"Uh, by chance the loan shark's name wouldn't be Pittsburgh
Phil, would it?" Steele asks, scratching his ear.

Candy nods. "Freddy didn't tell me what the take was,
but the way he was actin', I knew it was big. And I mean, big.
For some reason, though, he thought he needed your help, Harry.
He went over to your place, but you weren't home. I remember because
he called up lookin' for Jennifer to come party with him until
you got back. God, he should never have messed with Phil,"
she sighs regretfully. "He knew better than that, the jerk."

"Apparently he didn't," Laura comments.

"Well," Steele says, clearing his throat. "It
seems a trip to the track is in order, doesn't it? Uh, Candy,
you wouldn't by chance have any spare change we could borrow?"
he asks.

Candy looks at him.

***

At the police station, Mildred is on the telephone. "No,
no, no, Teresa, I want to know is Senor Steele or Senora Holt
en mi casa, por favor?" she asks hopefully. Jarvis comes
to the window in the door and looks inside. "What do you
mean no?" Mildred ask, sounding desperate as Jarvis opens
the door to enter. "Where the hell are they?!" She
sees Jarvis and smiles. "Never mind. I'll try somewhere else."
She hangs up and then starts to dial another number. Jarvis
stops her. "I gotta make another call!" she tells him.

"You only get one phone call, Mildred."

"But that was my housekeeper," she tells him.

"Strange call to make. Most people call their lawyers."
She looks at the phone. "Mildred?" She stands, still
hesitant. "Mildred," he warns. She leaves with him.

***

At the track, Steele looks around as Laura frets, "I can't
believe I had to hock my necklace just so we could get in this
place."

"It was either that or hock your body. And given our current
hygienic state, I suspect your necklace was the best move,"
he tells her with a slight smile.

Laura's not happy. "If we would have taken the bus instead
of a cab, I wouldn't have had to make this choice!" she declares
quietly as Steele looks her over. "Now what are we going
to hock for food? I'm not going to get anything for these earrings."

Steele spies Phil and his henchmen across the room. "Pittsburgh
Phil, I presume," he says, drawing Laura's attention to them.
"If he's really the one that killed Freddy and Jennifer,
then why was he at our wake?"

"He still must be looking for whatever it was that Freddy
lifted from him," Laura guesses.

"So. How do we get close enough to find out what 'it'
was?"

"Why not ask him for a loan?" Laura suggests.

"That's a-" Steele stops and looks at her with one
of his smiles. "That's what I love about you, Laura. You're
always willing to stick my neck out."

"I've got nothing else working hocking, remember?"
she replies.

Steele stuffs his handkerchief deeper into his pocket, then
moves off toward Phil as Laura watches. He approaches the loan
shark, apologizes for interrupting, but he really needs to talk.
Phil leads him toward the men's room. His henchmen stay on guard
at the entrance.

Inside, Phil checks the stalls, then approaches a man at the
sinks who's combing his hair. "You look beautiful,"
he tells the young man before taking his comb and pushing him
toward the door. "Now beat it." The man takes off.
Phil wets the comb in the sink as he looks into the mirror.
He lifts the comb to his head.

"Uh, I need a hundred," Steele says nervously.

"Why?"

"Uh, a friend of mine died. I need to bury him."

"Touching." Phil faces him. "How do I know
you're good for it?"

"Hey, I'm good for it. Do you think Candy would have
sent me to you if I wasn't? Hmm?"

Phil pulls out a hundred. "The minute I give this to
you," he says, holding it back, "you owe me twenty five
more."

Steele releases Phil and kicks over the trashcan to slow the
men up, but Phil kicks him in the back, giving Jake and the other
man a chance to grab him. Steele ends up on the counter, gasping
and groaning. Phil pushes the men away, grabbing the money from
Steele. "I don't know what kind of game you and Freddy are
playing, but I want that ticket he lifted from me and I want it
back now!"

"What- what are you talking about? What ticket?"
Steele asks.

To his men, Phil says, "Take this slime ball someplace
quiet. And if he doesn't cough up that Pick Six ticket, put a
bullet between his eyes."

The two men pull Steele to his feet and "escort"
him out of the men's room as Phil repairs the damage to his hair.

***

Laura sees the two men with Steele and knows that something's
gone wrong. She follows them to the stables; where the two men
toss Steele against a stall wall, then start beating him up.

Quietly, Laura releases a string of horses, sending them toward
the three men. Steele jumps out of the way as the two henchmen
run for their lives. "Are you all right?" she asks
Steele as he straightens the handkerchief in his pocket.

"Ah, yes, couldn't be better. Couldn't be better,"
he assures her pulling the handkerchief back up so it can be seen.
They take off back toward the clubhouse.

Inside, Phil sees them just as his men return, and they take
off again. This time, the first little man from their wake sees
Phil and his men running, and thinking they're after him, he takes
off too. The little man ducks under the turnstile. Steele and
Laura jump over it, watching the man.

"Wasn't he at our wake?" Laura questions.

"Follow that mourner!" Steele tells her.

Phil and his men come out of the turnstiles and don't see any
sign of Steele or Laura. Angry, Phil slaps one of them on the
back of the head, and starts to repeat the motion with the other,
but draws back instead.

***

The little man runs into a church. Steele and Laura follow,
but when they go inside, there's no sign of him. Sister Natalie
stops their headlong dash into the sanctuary. "Children please!
This is the Lord's home!"

"Sorry," Steele apologizes.

Out of breath, Laura explains, "My name is Laura Holt.
This is Remington Steele- you were at our wake yesterday!"
she realizes. "So was the man who came in here!"

"Laura Holt?" Sister Natalie asks. "Remington
Steele?"

"Uh huh," Steele confirms.

She crosses herself. "Oh, thank God you're both alive!"

"Thank you very much, sister, but two people are dead,"
Steele tells her. "And if we don't find out who's responsible
soon, you might find yourself at our funeral yet."

Sister Natalie sits down, troubled. "I know my brother
has lost his way, but I also know that he *couldn't* be involved
in a murder."

"Is your brother the man we followed in here?" Laura
asks.

"Yes. He thought he was being chased by a loan shark."

"Why were the two of you at our wake?" Steele wants
to know.

"We were hoping to find the missing ticket," the
nun tells them.

"What ticket?" Laura asks.

But it's Steele who answers. "The unclaimed one-point-five
million dollar Pick Six ticket, if I'm not mistaken."

"And Pittsburgh Phil took it from my brother who owed
him money," Sister Natalie says.

"How did your brother get it?" Laura wants to know.

"Went through my purse looking for money and found it
there," she tells them.

Steele gives the nun a surprised look. "Doesn't the Church
frown on- nuns playing Pick Six?"

"Oh, no," she says, laughing. "I was only holding
the ticket for Michael Harrigan."

"This ticket has seen more hands than a palm reader,"
Laura comments.

Sister Natalie smiles in agreement. "Michael Harrigan's
in the AA program that I run here at the Church. Well, you see,
he placed the bet for some friends, but then, when it came up
a winner, he was tempted to cash it in for himself. I talked him
into giving it to me for safekeeping. I just can't believe that
this has all somehow led to murder," she says sadly.

"Sister, do you have any idea where we might be able to
find this Michael Harrigan?" Steele asks.

***

In the dark of evening, Laura and Steele are shivering in a
line, waiting for a free meal at a soup kitchen. "Well,
if the nun is right, Harrigan should be doing his penance by dishing
out food inside," Steele says.

"We just have to trace the path of the ticket backwards
until we find out who does have it."

"Which leads us right back to Michael Harrigan,"
Steele says.

"And more importantly- *food*."

They're at the door, ready to go in, when a man comes out and
announces, "Outa grub!"

"Wh-wh-what do you mean?" Laura demands.

"What're you deaf? Get here earlier next time!"

"Do you realize how long we've been standing in this line?!"
Laura demands to know. "Do you think we're doing this just
for *fun*?!"

Steele speaks over her. "Do you know where we can find
Michael Harrigan?"

"He didn't show up tonight, alright?" the man tells
him.

"Now you listen to me!" Laura says, angry and not
thinking clearly as a result of being hungry, "you oversize,
stone hearted ape!"

"Do you know where we could find him?" Steele asks,
his voice still calm.

"We're not leaving here until we get a meal!" Steele
smiles nervously.

"Probably getting smashed at the track club!" the
man tells Steele as Laura continues her tirade while an embarrassed
Steele stands there, letting her have a go at it.

"I don't mean a scrawny piece of bread. I mean a full
course, well-balanced, gut stuffing-" the man slams the door
in her face. Laura's furious. She slams her metal tray against
the door in frustration.

"Feel better?" Steele asks.

She grabs his tray and slams it against the door as well before
stalking off. Steele smiles nervously at the others still behind
them in the line before following her.

He's having a smoke beside a phone booth as he watches the
doorway of a building with a hand written sign, "Cots, $2.00
a nite."

Inside, Steele and Laura are sharing one of the narrow cots
in the room. "Unconscionable, Mildred not home. Where is
that woman?" he wonders.

"Probably out to dinner," Laura says, then moans
softly.

"If we ever find that ticket, what do you say we cash
it in and stay down in the Bahamas for the rest of our lives,
just you and me, eh?"

"Is that your foot on my leg?" Laura asks.

"Nope," Steele says.

Laura sits up, slapping her leg. "Something crawling .
. ." She stands up. "That's it. I'm going to the police.
I'm going to tell them I'm alive. Then, I'm going to go home.
I'm going to take a hot shower, and then I'm going to eat something.
And then I'm going to climb into my bed, in my loft, and go to
sleep. For a week."

Steele sits up and says seriously, "Okay. That's exactly
what you should do, Laura. But I owe it to Freddy to find out
who killed him. And I can't do that if I announce I'm alive. Freddy
was my friend and this is my problem. Not yours. It's unfair
that I asked you to stay here anyway, so-"

Laura takes a deep breath. "Okay."

Steele lies back down, and Laura starts for the door. She turns
and looks at Steele, thinks for a moment, then smiles before going
back to the bed. Sitting down on it, she waits for him to pull
the blanket away. "Stop hogging the bed," she tells
him. He grins widely and makes room for her, noticing the nun's
brother entering with Phil and his henchmen.

"Don't get too comfortable," he warns Laura softly.
"It appears the nun's brother has sold his soul to the Devil."
He pulls the blanket over their heads.

Phil looks at several of the people on the cots. When they
reach the one where Steele and Laura are, Steele sucker punches
Phil, pushes another man aside as Laura shoves a suitcase at the
second henchman and the nun's brother. They take off, making
their escape.

***

Cars and trucks drive across a bridge as homeless people sleep
beneath it in cardboard boxes and other makeshift dwellings. In
a metal pipe, Laura and Steele are sleeping as well, using a piece
of cardboard as a blanket. When a truck's air horn blares, Laura
screams, startling Steele awake as well

"What- what is it? What's wrong?" Steele asks.

"I'm okay," Laura says, still half asleep, her head
on his shoulder. "I'm okay."

"What is it?" he asks again.

"It was just a horrible nightmare," she tells him.

"Huh?"

"I dreamed someone was chasing us and we had no place
to go, so we had to spend the night-" Steele puts his head
onto her shoulder now, going back to sleep. "We had to spend
the night-" she looks around. "Under a freeway."
She realizes it really happened.

"Okay," Steele mutters. "Okay. Just- perhaps
if we go back to sleep-we'll wake up in our own bedrooms next
time."

"There's only one way we're going to wake up in our own
bedrooms. And that's to get to the bottom of this elusive Pick
Six ticket once and for all."

"Yes, well," Steele says, his head still on her shoulder,
his eyes still closed, "your good friend in the food line
said that Harrigan's a regular at the track club." Laura
rolls her eyes. "Perhaps if we go back to sleep-" Laura
jumps up. "Laura, where are you going?" he says, groaning
as he moves his head and his neck protests. "Oh, my neck.
Laura, please-" he says, getting up as well.

***

At the police station, Jarvis closes the door on an interrogation
room where Mildred sits at a table and a stenographer waits. "I
want to confess everything," Mildred tells him. "I can't
handle another night in that cell."

"Are you all set, Sally?" he asks the stenographer.
She nods. "I'm all ears, Mildred."

"No. It was a pickpocket and his girlfriend that were
murdered. Not them."

"Pickpocket. His girlfriend."

"I didn't know that Mr. Steele and Miss Holt were really
still alive until they lured me down to the mortuary. It was
Mr. Steele who called me on the phone in the office."

"Mr. Steele misplaced Laura Holt's urn," Jarvis says.

"Yes. I mean no. No, no. The point is, that Mr. Steele
thinks that the nun, the loan shark and the five jockeys and all
those other guys are somehow connected to the pickpocket."
The stenographer giggles.

Jarvis takes a deep breath. "It won't work, Mildred."

"What do you mean? What won't work?"

"Claiming insanity. I am officially booking you right
now on two counts of first degree murder!"

Mildred's ready to cry.

***

At the track club, Michael Harrigan, the red haired man from
the wake, is at a table, a bottle before him, his head on the
table. Steele and Laura approach him. "All right, Mr. Harrigan.
Snap out of it," Laura tells him, slapping in on the back.
Steele sits down. "Come on," she continues, sitting
as well. "Wake up."

"It appears our deaths were more than he could handle,"
Steele comments.

"What do you want?" Harrigan asks in a slurred voice.

"We want to know what you know what you know about that
Pick Six ticket you purchased last week. Whom did you buy it for?"
Laura asks.

"They trusted me," Harrigan sighs, refilling his
glass. "Everybody used to trust me. I was a big shot around
here and they all looked up to me."

"Skip the sob story, Harrigan," Steele says. "Who'd
you place the bet for?"

"I should've done what they asked me to. I shouldn't have
given it to that sister. They were all my buddies and they trusted
me," he says, his head falling to the table again.

"Great, great, great," Steele says in frustration.
"We're not gonna get much more out of him, are we?"

Laura gets up, and Steele joins her. They stop, looking back
at Harrigan. "No wonder he lost all his stables," he
comments

"Hardly a man capable of killing anyone," Laura notes.

"Which leaves us our five jockeys in mourning," Steele
says.

Laura gets an idea. "What are the odds that those five
jockeys alternated riding the winning horse on all six picks?"
she asks him.

"The exact same odds that those five jockeys are guilty
of murder," he tells her. They leave.

In the paddock, they come up on Alejandro. "Hello,"
he says.

"Hi," Steele says.

"Hey, haven't I seen you two somewhere before?"

"Maybe at the wake yesterday?" Laura suggests.

"Oh, that's right, you two were-" he stops. "Dead."

Steele grabs him, lifting him on the wall. "That's right.
The name's Steele. Remington Steele. And we know you fixed the
races by getting Harrigan to place the bet for you. Only Harrigan
gave up the winning ticket."

"Which ultimately forced you and your cohorts to murder
two people to get that ticket back," Laura continues.

The other four jockeys come from a building and see their friend
in trouble.

"Murder?!" Alejandro cries out. "No way!"
The four jockeys rush Steele, freeing Alejandro, and taking Steele
down. Alejandro finally whistles to stop them. "Leave him
alone. Back off, guys." Laura goes to help Steele to his
feet. "I don't know why you two are pretending to be dead,
and I don't know who it was you say was murdered, but we didn't
kill anybody."

"Then what were you doing at the wake?" Laura asks.

"Just like everybody else, hoping to find the ticket.
Word on the street was the pickpocket came to Mr. Steele to get
him to cash the ticket. When we found out that you were dead,
we figured your pickpocket friend would come to pay his last respects."

"Are you saying you don't have the ticket?" Steele
asks.

"It wouldn't do us any good anyway," Alejandro says.
"None of us could cash it in. Not with all the publicity
that the track gives its Pick Six winners. That's why we went
to Harrigan in the first place."

Laura pulls Steele aside. "You realize what this means?"

"Yes," he says, still out of breath from the beating
he got from the jockeys. "It means we were murdered for
no good reason."

"We've made contact with everybody even remotely related
to that ticket, and no one seems to *have* it!"

Steele looks thoughtful. "Unless- Unless somebody actually
does have the ticket. What better way not to be considered a suspect
than to pretend not to have the ticket?"

"With all the anticipated publicity, the ticket holder
would have to find some clever way of cashing it in without letting
everybody know about it."

"The question still remains, who's got the bloody ticket?"

"Or better yet, who's no longer looking for it?"

Suddenly she looks at him, and he at her as inspiration strikes.
They turn and take off.

Running back into the club, they find that while the bottle
and glass are still on Harrigan's table, Harrigan himself is nowhere
to be seen. "No one that drunk could have crawled out of
here that fast!" Laura declares.

"Unless Harrigan wasn't that drunk to begin with,"
Steele notes, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig. "That's
water," he tells her as Phil and his men come in, drawing
their guns.

"Which means he's going to try to cash the ticket,"
Laura says finding herself bracketed by Phil and his men.

"Been lookin' all over for you, Mr. Steele," Phil
says. "Now. Where is that ticket?"

"How can I get it through your thick skull that I don't
*have* the-"

"POLICE!" Jarvis says from the doorway. His gun
is pointed at Phil and his men, and two track guards flank him,
their guns at ready as well. "Drop the gun."

"I never thought I'd be glad to see you, Jarvis,"
Steele says, smiling as he and Laura move around Phil. "Thank
you."

Mildred joins Jarvis as the guards arrest Phil and his men.
"You can thank Mildred not me. To prove you were both alive,
she had me expedite the fingerprinting of the real murder victims."

Mildred frowns. "You two look terrible!" she exclaims.

"It's great to see you, too, Mildred," Laura replies.
"Where have you *been*?"

"Well, I-" she stops as she looks past them. "Hey!
Wasn't that guy at the wake?" she asks, pointing to Michael
Harrigan as he walks behind the ticket line.

"There he is!" Laura tells Steele, and they're off
again.

Harrigan comes out of a door with another man who's carrying
a briefcase. Seeing Laura and Steele heading in his direction,
Harrigan grabs the case and takes off. "Stop him!"
the man yells. "He's getting away with a million and a half
dollars!"

At the doors, Laura goes around the crowd trying to get out,
while Steele barrels through. "Mind your back, make way.
Sorry, sir," he apologizes as the pushes through a door as
others try to come in. He finally catches up with Laura.

In the stables, they find Harrigan, dead, a bullet hole in
his chest. Kneeling, Laura says, "He's dead. And the money's
gone."

"He's apparently not the only one." She takes off
and Steele follows her.

Back inside the building, Laura sees a nun on the escalator
carrying the case that Harrigan was carrying. "Stop that
nun!" Laura yells. The nun turns, then starts climbing the
escalator as Steele starts up the down one to cut her off.

At the top, Steele makes a flying tackle "All right, Sister,"
he says, ripping off her veil. He's shocked when he sees who
it is. "Candy?!" She pulls a gun, but Laura kicks it
out of her hand. She drags Candy to her feet.

"I think you've killed enough friends for one week, Candy."

"Wait a minute," Mildred tells them. "She wasn't
at the wake. How come she wound up with the loot?"

"Check her," the man from the track tells Steele.
"She should have the ticket, too."

As he searches her, Steele mutters, "Ah, Candy, Candy.
Come here." He finds the ticket and hands it to the man.

"Yeah. Harrigan told me that a nun had won the Pick Six.
But he convinced me that if the media ever got hold of that,
the Church would suffer. So I got the money together, and I was
gonna follow him to the nun so we could quietly exchange it for
the ticket."